Su Ningan was terrified by me. She pushed me away with a look of terror, as if I were some evil spirit.
My words were enough to send her into a frenzy of thoughts and anxiety.
It took her a long time to find her voice: "Ms. Jiang, are you kidding? Why am I withdrawing?"
She raised her voice deliberately to attract the attention of those around her, and for a moment, everyone's attention was on me.
It was as if I was using some illegal means to force her to withdraw.
Su Ningan's fans began to curse and boo me, and the scene became chaotic.
The host and security quietly maintained order, but Su Ningan gave me a provocative look, as if to say that I was too young to compete with her.
This was her most common tactic, stirring up others' emotions as a powerful weapon against me. Even Mrs. Su in the audience was saying, "Look, you have no talent, yet you're trying to use unfair means to force others to withdraw. How can such a person have any real talent?"
Mrs. Fu was fiddling with her newly-made nails. She had no fondness for Su Ning'an, only caring about whether he could bring her benefits.
"I still have great confidence in Ning'an. I've even had the promotional copy prepared."
"Don't worry, my daughter is the best. Look at all these fans cheering for her."
They were all looking forward to the show, but it was a pity that I was destined to win this time.
Su Ning'an's skills couldn't match mine, so she had only one way to win.
She couldn't just use her old paintings to make up for it on stage. She could only copy all my works before the competition, striving to be exactly the same.
She must have memorized all my works privately, which gave her the confidence to go on stage.
As the competition was about to begin, I bent down to tie my shoelaces as I passed by Su Ning'an. As I stood up, I whispered something in Su Ning'an's ear, like a ghost: "Su Ning'an, Su Wan has been watching you."
Su Ning'an, who was washing her brush, knocked over the bucket. She looked at me in disbelief, but I didn't even glance at her and quickly left.
Think about it slowly. Who made you feel guilty?
I sat at my drawing board, twirling my brush in my hand, thinking about how tormented Su Ning'an must be right now.
She was wondering if I knew something. Would she use my painting?
No, with her own composition and color matching, she was no match for mine. If she used my painting, and someone discovered it was Su Wan's, her reputation would be ruined.
No, Su Wan was dead. No one would even know it was hers.
The dead can't speak!
So Su Ning'an decided to take the risk. She would definitely use my painting.
She knew me in the past, and I knew her in the present. Sure enough, my suspicions were spot on. I didn't have time to worry about Su Ning'an right now. This battle was about vindicating myself!
Oddly, this competition didn't have a theme, meaning everyone could paint using their best technique.
How was this different from an open-book exam?
Perhaps the organizers were trying to encourage the artists to produce even more impressive works to facilitate the upcoming auction.
I wasn't limited to the past; a picture had already formed in my mind.
My brush flew across the paper, and the director would occasionally cut to a close-up.
I was immersed in my work, completely unaware that the audience was already buzzing with excitement.
There were many close-ups of me, as if the director was answering the audience's question: "Can I paint?"
Everyone only saw my crude painting style, and at first, everyone was cursing. "What the hell is this painting? My grandmother, who had bound feet, could draw better than her."
"A ghostwriter? She must have hired a ghostwriter. The moment they got there, their true colors were exposed."
Lin Hui covered her mouth with her hand and chuckled. "I told her she wasn't good enough. Her method might as well be throwing paint directly on it. Look how steady our Zhi'er is."
My mom scoffed, "Shut up! If you're so good, why didn't they choose you as the judge?"
Jiang Qing said sternly, "Stop arguing. Watch on."
Mrs. Su was delighted. "If Miss Jiang's painting skills were half as good as her speaking skills, she'd be lucky. How can she compare to An'an?"
But gradually, everyone's laughter faded. The seemingly chaotic painting was gradually taking shape within the chaos. Someone at the scene who understood painting clapped their thighs and stood up, "Brilliant! This isn't mediocrity, this is genius!"
"Incredible! It was just a pile of shit before, and she's transformed it into something truly magical!"
"She didn't even use outlines or rough drafts. This is clearly a master."
Only those who truly understand painting can understand the value of this painting, just like a random live performance that becomes a hit.
As the show drew to a close, more people stood up, their eyes glued to the big screen, waiting for my painting to take shape.
My entry was titled "Rebirth," and this one is "Twins."
Life and death, light and darkness, fragmentation and reconstitution.
On one side, a black lotus descends into hell, dark and decaying, sinking deeper and deeper into the black mire.
Look closely, the lotus resembles a woman crying for help.
But on the other side, vibrant colors appear. Some see it as a hand holding the black lotus, while others see it as an angel's wings kissing it.
Everyone has their own perspective. It's clear that the style here is one of healing, redemption, and light breaking through darkness.
"Amazing! This is a masterpiece!"
"I see redemption, what do you see?"
"Hope."
"Destruction!"
"Angel wings!"
As I put the final stroke, the whole crowd erupted.
It's rare to see live painting sessions. Everyone felt like they were listening to a piece of music, or watching a story, their emotions stirring before finally returning to calm.
I was the first to finish, and I had already ignited the whole crowd.
Su Ning'an was clearly a little anxious; she felt uneasy hearing the excitement.
After I handed in my painting, I could join everyone else in admiring the others' work. Su Ning'an had indeed created one of my most iconic works.
Thankfully, I came prepared this time; she'd fallen into my trap again!
Although she was flustered, she'd copied the painting countless times in private, so she finished it relatively perfectly. Jiang Zhi watched everyone around her finish their paintings, her anxiety and panic aroused. As a result, she didn't clean the paint off her pen properly, leaving a gray-black streak on the canvas.
This drew sighs from the audience.
Originally, she could have simply covered it with color, but the more anxious she was, the more she tried to cover it up, and it blended with the black, turning the entire painting gray.
Watching this gave Jiang Qing a headache. Lin Hui stopped talking and explained guiltily, "She's just a little nervous."
Jiang Qing grumbled, "It's a good thing we weren't paying attention to her, the last one."
My mother was so moved that tears welled up in her eyes. "My Taiwanese are amazing."